The Moral Committee
by 5kin
Summary: "Ugh! I'm always treated like the youngest, just because I was born last...that isn't fair! We're triplets! We all have the same birthday!" — Bubble's diary. The three sister formerly known as the POWERPUFF GIRLS as a "band name" they'd created as children are now grown up and facing trouble, in the form of three, rebellious teenage boys... FULL DESCRIPTION INSIDE!
1. Please read! Descript&AN

**THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: DESCRIPTION EXTENDED / AUTHOR'S NOTE**

"_Ugh! __I'm always treated like the youngest, just because I was born last...that isn't fair! We're triplets! We all have the same birthday!_" — _Bubble's diary_.

The three sister formerly known as the POWERPUFF GIRLS as a "band name" they'd created as children are now grown up and facing trouble, in the form of three, rebellious teenage boys. Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup, making up the _Moral Committee _of Townsville High, will do whatever it takes to force the untamed trio's charades into dormancy, and attend the school peacefully— or have them completely _withdrawn_. But when emotions are high, will the girls and the boys find that even after having grown up with one another, there is so little known about each other's lives...?

"_Butch and Bubbles...? Ha ha! No way! That'd never work— Bubbles would never go for a total maniac like him! Besides, I see Butch being more, Buttercup's style._" — _Blossom Utonium. _

_****THIS FICTION IS RATED**_ \|**M**|/_** FOR THE**__** FOLLOWING**_: Vulgar language, violence, sexual themes, use of drugs/alcoholism, abuse, adult content which includes: sex, both forced and consensual, self-sex, touching and all that gooey ecchi stuff.. (*´艸`*)

+ I do NOT own PPGs or RRBs (yet).

On a last note, fair warning, this fiction is also chock full of personal headcanons and other cool junk— **Highschool**!PPG&RRB AU.

****IMPORTANT: THIS FICTION WAS FORMERLY TITLED "THE DIARY" BUT HAS BEEN RENAMED "THE MORAL COMMITTEE". IT IS STILL THE SAME FICTION.****

If you aren't open to the idea of homosexuality or crosspairing, this fic probably isn't for you...and is best left unread. (Or at least left without a negative review about what's already been said in the warning!)

That is all.

Ready, set, _READ AND REVIEW_!

(But don't read if you're sensitive to the idea.)


	2. Prologue :: Boys are horrible!

**THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: PROLOGUE ::: _BOYS ARE HORRIBLE ! _**( ≧Д≦)

_Dear diary,_

_Another hard day at school today! Ugh! It's getting so miserable with those insane brothers wandering around reeking havoc on the school and everybody who attends it! They've been trouble since back even when we were young! I remember when Buttercup used to always get in a fight with dark haired one, and Blossom always fought with the red head back when we all went to kindergarten together._

_But not anymore!_

_As vice president of the Moral Committee it is (partially) my duty to keep our beloved high school a safe and suitable sanctuary for our learning!— __  
_

"_Whatcha writing, huh Bubs_?"

She shrieked in appall, Bubbles, ripping her fluffed and fuzzy white and pale blue pillows from their position on top of her bed, down to smother and hide the blue book beneath them. "W— what're you doing...in _my room_!?"

"Whadoya' mean! You don't like me in here anymore," she protested playfully, red hair flinging throughout the air in their tussle for dominance in their silk nightgowns. As the sisters fought, rolling in Bubbles' bed with fingers locked until once would mount the other and render them powerless, Blossom sat high on her sister's abdomen and shoved Bubbles' wrists down into the soft comforter, "We used to _share _a room and a bed y'know!"

Bubbles turned her head, her orbs of ocean blue distorted from the heat which permeated her rosy face from embarrassment. She squeezed them tightly closed and blasted her tight lipped mouth open to release a desperate howl, "_Blossom, get off of me! You...you're freakin' heavy!_"

With every ounce of her pent up strength, Bubbles thrashed beneath the body of her captor and thrusted herself forward, shoving Blossom down to the mattress's pillow top. Time stood still for several, silent seconds, as the eye contact exchanged between women hadn't ceased. Blossom's fiery hot reddish-brown mixing and cooling in her sister's ice cold crystal blues. Bubbles' cheeks puffed out and pink from frustration.

"I...I hate it..." She began, scattered and woeful.

"_Bubbles_?" Blossom retorted with a whimper of concern.

"When you guys pick on me!" Bubbles bellowed out to the heavens, her voice high and raised, and her hands scavenging every ticklish portion of Blossom's body that she knew of. This was her weakness, and only her sisters knew. Blossom would absolutely _die _if any outsider were to find out that beneath her hard exterior, she was a simple teenage girl who crumbled weak beneath the power of a good tickling.

Blossom cried out in uncontrollable laughter, her body stirring up the blankets and sheets atop Bubbles' bed as she flailed for freedom, "O—okay, okay! I'm so— I'm _sorry_! Bubbles! Stop! S— stop...STOP!" She pleaded, she begged in chirping cries that ripped from her throat at their highest ring. Her eyes watered and blurry with tears, her distorted gaze pointed to the door, where she made out the silhouette of another woman. She extended her arm, her hand out to the door and the woman within its threshold, a desperate plea for a much needed rescue, "B—Buttercup! Buttercup, help! HELP ME BUTTERCUP!"

"Alright— alright! Jeez, shut yer damn trap already," Buttercup snarled, wiggling her ear with her fingers to regain her hearing after Blossom's onslaught of piercing shrills. The third of the triplet sisters finally entered, Buttercup in her forest green cotton boy shorts and matching bra, just barely dressed after coming out of the shower last. She snatched one of hundreds of fluffy pillows off from Bubbles' bed, and swung it through the air to hit her in the back of her pretty blonde head. Bubbles chirped in detest, her hands coming up from their place on Blossom's frame, to shield her head from several more pillow attacks, allowing Blossom, her chance for freedom.

She took it graciously, Blossom, turning her sister over and taking another powder blue pillow from the bed to join in on the assault with Buttercup. Two against one in the unfair game of triplet pillow fight— "_Ow_!" Blossom yelped in gripe. And the pillow _war_, came, to a screeching halt.

"You—" She snapped venomously at Buttercup, "_hit _me!"

"Oh, come _on_," Buttercup sneered, "it's a pillow! How much could that've _possibly _hurt!?"

"A lot considering your _man hands _were the ones behind it!"

"_Who're you callin' 'man hands' sister..._?" Buttercup said stiffly. Her forehead compacted tightly against Blossom's, hazel green eyes meet reddish-brown in a clash for dominance. The electricity running between the two siblings eyes was so blatantly tangible at this point, that neither one dared to look away from the other, or one would lose the fight.

Bubbles took this as her one and only opening, and finally, she launched into her attack. She took _another _pillow, and maliciously swung it both her sister's heads, knocking them out of their staring contest. "I told you guys to _get__— out_!" Her demanding wail bounced off her virgin white walls and into their ears. "_Dammit_, that smarts..." Buttercup growled.

"Stop _cursing in my room_!" Bubbles implored, "Gosh! Can't you two respect my privacy!?"

"There's nothing _private _when your bedroom door's wide open..." Blossom murmured, she and Buttercup snickering deviously. Bubbles' face ripped into a wave of hot pink, and her body, quaking.

"Whatcha doin' that's so _private _anyway!? _Huh_!?" Buttercup teased maliciously, and hurled herself over her sisters body to topple down on the bed. Blossom giggled, the palm of her hand covering her hot pink lips that curved into a dark smile. "What are you _implying_!?" Bubbles lamented, "Blossom you know exactly what I was doing! You came in first! Quit laughing at me—e—e!"

"Relax, Bubbles! We're just kidding," Blossom blared in laughter, "can't you take a joke? Quit whining all the time!" She toppled over both Buttercup and Bubbles' bodies completing their dog pile, and stretched out to grab hold of a violet stuffed octopus resting peacefully among the ruckus, "You still have this thing!?"

"Cut it out!" Bubbled yapped, "Professor gave that to me!"

"_Neh neh neh neh neh neh neh_!" Buttercup mocked, "Pipe down before he comes up here and—!"

"—_Girl__s_?"

"_Crap_—" Blossom snapped sharply under her breath, all three girls paralyzed in an ice cold nature as the footsteps of their father drew nearer. He came towards their threshold, his voice nearing closer, _closer_—

"One of you..._called_?" He said, and peered into the room with inquisitive narrowed eyes. Only Bubbles sat in her bed, blankets yanked over her legs and stopping at her waist. Nervous, and smiling at the man in is late forties and white t-shirt and black pajama pants, standing in her door. "Bubbles?"

"Y—yes, Professor?" She stuttered, anxious. He looked about her room once more, and then laid his dark eyes back directly on her, "Did you call for me?"

"No, sir!"

"Oh...well..." He blinked once, twice, engulfed in silence for several seconds as the two only stared at one another in patience for the other's response, "I see."

She smiled, cocking her head to the side and waving her hand, an obvious gesture of dismissal, "Goodnight, Professor!"

He nodded and flipped the switch of her light, enrobing both bubbles, and her room, in complete darkness. On the other side of the door, he could hear the inside of the room, and the unveiling of the two missing sisters as they came up from their hiding spot on the other side of the bed and whispered, "_That was a close one...!_"

"_Quiet you idiot! He could still be outside the door...!_"

He couldn't help but laugh, slyly. Distancing himself further and further away from the door, to the stairs where he took his steps lightly all the way down to the bottom floor, and closed himself off in is room. Exhausted.

Thinking.

_Professor_, he griped to himself inwardly, and then, he laughed. Had his wife been here, she too would've found humor in such a nickname. Just the very memory of how it came to be brought him inner happiness and warmth...

_"Dad?" Bubbles squeaked giddily, running her fingers across the laminated encasing of her father's clip on name tag hanging from the breast pocket of his white lab coat, "What does...P-R mean? And why is it on your name tag? I thought your name was dad!" _

_He blinked, silent for a moment as he too looked down to his tag, and righted it before her and her sister's gleaming curious eyes, "Pr.? Why, it stands for professor—"_

_"What's a professor?" Blossom chirped inquisitively, "Why does your name tag say professor?"_

_"Well, it says professor because...I'm a professor. And the people at work call me professor!"_

_"Can I call you professor?" Bubbles peeped. _

_He stared at her for a moment, racking his brain for an answer._

_But how could anyone deny a face like that? _

_"Sure," he chuckled, and patted her atop her blonde head. Buttercup jumped up from in front of the tv, off the carpeted floor, quick in objection._

_"Hey, no fair!" She cried, "How come only she gets to call you professor!?"_

_"Yeah," Blossom cosigned with her sister's bellowing, "I wanna call you professor too!"_

_"Professor!" All three small girls brayed in unison, and all three snapped sharp eyes upon each other. And again, all three barked together in harmonious unison and aggressive tone,_

_"No! I call him professor!" _

He chuckled softly. If _she_ had still been alive...she...

"Not tonight," he grumbled to himself, sliding the palms of his heavy hands down his face and flopping down onto his bed. He wouldn't worry himself with such meaningless thoughts tonight, as he had done before. The night before, and even, the night before that...no. Not another night would he find himself woeful in is sleep, he had three lively daughters on the floor directly above him, counting on him to be the support they need.

_They...do count on me...don't they?_

_What if I'm not enough...? I can't be their rock...if I can't even help myself._

_Maybe they **don't** count on me._

He recollects silently, face down in his bed. The day that his three beautiful princesses were brought onto the Earth, the very same day that his Queen expired after giving them life. He remembers to this day, the enigma that radiated off their charming features, with two of the three toddlers taking after their mother, and only Buttercup was the one out of the three of them that held his features. With dark hair, and hazel green eyes.

Bubbles and Blossom on the other hand, had both been born blonde. Blossom's hair turning to an oranger, strawberry blonde than pure blonde, as Bubbles'. He remembers the days that she'd dread it's color, the days that she'd gone to school and come home in tears because of her bullies, and she would come to _him_ to wipe them away.

How in her early teen years, she'd dyed it completely, an orange-red color— the same color it is to this very day, as she's kept up with it. And the emotions he'd felt when she'd tainted her beautiful hair with such a permanent chemical. The sadness he felt when he watched his wife's features, vanish from his daughter's image.

And Buttercup, Buttercup who'd always been the rambunctious, rebellious, fighter that she is to this day, since she was young. But even then, she still counted on him to lift her spirits when they had fallen. He can remember clearly, every detail and emotion he felt, when she'd come home one day with her ears pierced after hiding them from him for...how long had she said she'd had them?

He remembers his struggling with figuring out how to deal with such a situation, and how hard it was to accept them, and tell her it was okay. A gesture which he later came to regret when she'd come home with two more, silver rings in the cartilage of both her ears, and her long black silk cut completely off to a short crop on her head. Oh yes, he remembers that stage of _Punk Rock_ she'd gone through, and how silly it was that he'd actually gone online to find out whether it was normal in teen girls to hit such a phase...

Today, he breathes a sigh of relief that she's grown out of it. But still, she keeps her piercings, and her short hair, as a reminder that it was once a phase in her life.

And then, there's Bubbles.

His last princess, his most fragile, still pure to the outsides social "acceptance" theories. Still pure blonde and innocent.

She is innocent. _Right_?

As of late, there has been little to no communication about school life of social life from any of the girls to their father. He has absolutely _no _idea what's going on in their lives. But perhaps...that's how all teenagers are. Maybe.

Damn it's hard, raising your very first batch of triplet daughters into adulthood on your own.

_At least they're strong_, he decided, and sighed heavily in anguish. He pulled his blankets up and over his tired body, burying himself beneath their comfort, and his head, into his pillow.

_At least they're strong_. He told himself one more time, and fitfully, fell into a deep slumber.

XXX

_—As I was saying..._

After making complete assurance that her room was empty, and her door had been shut _completely_. Bubbles resumed writing in her diary, picking up where she'd left off, using the light of her cellphone as her guide in the dark of her room, and beneath her blankets.

—_Ugh! __I'm always treated like the youngest, just because I was born last...that isn't fair! We're triplets! We all have the same birthday! ____Anyway..._

___Where was I?_

___Oh yeah!_

___Those three brothers...they drive me up the wall! In fact, they drive all of us crazy! And to think, that we're so much alike in a way that it's almost kinda creepy. But maybe that's why they feel like they have to bother us so much? I don't know. Boys are weird. ____I just wonder what went so wrong with them that they have to cause chaos for others to make themselves feel better! Or maybe it's just another thing boys like to do? Pick on girls?_

She yawned quietly, glancing over to her phone to check the time: 10:05 PM. Jotting down these final few words before she'd turn in and go to bed,

___Boys are horrible!_

___...But big sisters are worse._

* * *

Tada! Prologue, everybody. I'm kinda excited about this fiction, I've been planning it for quite some time and I'm finally taking the initiative to write it while I've got some free time! Hopefully, I won't stop updating!

Also: The Rowdyruff Boys...I had a huge crush. (*≧艸≦)

Remember to leave a review! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 1 :: A day in the life of a

**THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: CHAPTER ONE ::: A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A COMMITTEE MEMBER**

"_Ugh _what's that _stench!?_"

Students gathered towards a concentrated area in the school's hall, all of which, complained about the malicious perfume extruding from behind an empty classroom's door. Two male companions both commenting on its foulness, and the source of which it would be found, "Hey," one of the two young men said to the second, "it's those brothers right?"

"No doubt," the second one replied, "it's definitely those guys. Those lazy assholes think they can do as they please."

"_They're doing it again on campus in the middle of the day_," A feeble female student whispered hesitantly to another and covered her mouth and nose to keep from inhaling the noxious fumes, "_u__gh...no one can offer a complaint to those guys...they never listen..._"

In betwixt the soft whispers of gossip and coos of disbelief, came the thunderous storming of feet coming down the hall. School loafers, three pairs, hitting the ground in partial unison as if to split the Earth and unleash the wrath of hell and its demons. Three pairs of school loafers, on feminine legs which came up to disappear behind the dark pleats of a uniform skirt. All made way for the malignant trio and their indignation, flinching at the loud _crack _of a bamboo sword slicing the ground and dragging behind them.

"_Hey...aren't they..._" Whispers arose from bystanders on either side of the hall as they zipped through and approached the classroom door.

"_Oh man! It's...!_"

With a single powerful shove, the door flung itself open, nearly off its hinges, and came to a rattling collision with the wall behind it, and the bamboo sword is risen in the air, and pointed at its culprits. "You..._you _three!"

"_Ugh...it stinks..._" Bubbles retched to the grotesque aroma and pinched her nostrils tight. Whilst she and Buttercup stood behind Blossom, who held the sword high in resentment, with her free hand on her hip. The three males inside shielded their eyes from the light penetrating the room from the outside, groaning in discomfort. "_Shit_...it's _that _bitch..."

"That's _President of the Moral Committee— _Blossom Utonium, to you _punk_!" Blossom struck the ground again with the end of the bamboo sword, causing everyone on the outside to shudder from the painful sound, "And you three won't go any further doing whatever you like on school grounds!" She swung the sword up from the ground once more to strike the light switch of the darkened room, shining light on the trio of delinquents inside. And also, shining light on the source of the foul stench.

A rolled brown paper, smoking at its tip and unleashing an unsavory scent unto the building, and even with the window partially open behind them, the aroma was still thick in the air. Blossom wrinkled her nose, her jaw dropped in disbelief, and she pointed the swords tip back to the circle of boys, "I—is that—!? _Marijuana_!?"

"Huh...? Oh, what? You mean this?" The one of the three males holding the joint held it higher in attention, his lips crooked in a wolfish smirk.

"You know very well I mean that!" Blossom boiled in resentment, "Bubbles! Go open those windows!"

She nodded obediently— Bubbles inhaled deeply, the air outside the classroom less tainted with smoke, and made a mad dash through the room and past the boys to the cracked windows. She opened one fully, poking her head outside to inhale more fresh air before coming back inside to open the others across the wall. "Buttercup!" Blossom bawled again, "Confiscate the illegal substance immediately!"

"Can't you just say, _fetch the weed_?" Buttercup snickered in response. Blossom turned her attention to her snarky sister, taking her eyes off the boys for even a second— would prove to be her downfall.

"_Go_!" The red-headed male of the group, or the _ring leader _as Blossom referred to him as, gave is cue for the other two to follow him in their slippery escape. All three vaulted up from the ground and sprinted to the open windows, their athletic physiques allowing them to spring through the opening quickly, and roll out on the other side. The last of the men, blowing a thick cloud of dark smoke into Bubbles' face to make his escape.

"_Gack_!" Bubbles gagged, flipping into a frenzied cough that rendered her very weak very quickly and gave her watering eyes. "_Bubbles_!" Both Blossom and Buttercup cried, running to their sister's aid, and Blossom, dropping her sword to the ground.

"Bubbles! Are you okay!?" She questioned feverishly, pushing locks of blonde out of Bubbles' face to look into its expression. Buttercup kept her hand on Bubbles' back, with her other on her abdomen to ensure her standing was steady, while Blossom held her face by it's wet burning cheeks.

"They're...they're getting away!" Bubbles sobbed, "Don't let them get away Blossom! _Don't let them go_!"

"_Right_!" Blossom nodded. Perched high on the window sill, she turned back, giving her sisters one final glance of reassurance, "You make sure Bubbles is okay! I'll be back!"

"_Go_!" Buttercup routed venomously for Blossom's departure, and watched as the flying red-haired girl pierced the air with her agile body and took after the boys. As the smoke cleared, Bubbles finally ceased her coughing, and swallowed for fresh air. "You alright Bubbles?" Buttercup inquired of her beloved sister. She nodded her head quickly, her twintails of blonde shaking as she did, before she lifted her head and her body up to their erect position.

"Let's go!" Bubbles demanded of Buttercup, as she too came to the window, lifting Blossom's abandoned sword into her hand. Buttercup nodded, without a single word of detest, but simply nothing more than a look of understanding, as she watched Bubbles take a flipping leap out the school's window. Buttercup stepped several feet back, back out of the classroom's door and into the hall where the surrounding students all watched her in awe. Her body falling, in the ready position for track and field runners.

Set!

She lifted up on the ball of her foot, her other knee pushed up into her chest, and her body steady supported on the pads of her fingers.

_Go_!

Buttercup sprinted back through the door, back into the classroom where she cut into a skillful flip and handstand, plunging herself through the window legs first. Landing on her feet, on the other side, outside in the grass where she took off in a powerfully mad dash after her sisters. So quickly in fact, that she caught up to Bubbles and Blossom without a moment's notice.

"Which one has the drugs!?" Bubbles question in panting, broken breath. Blossom flung her arm out to her side, and looked back to her sisters for help, "_Bubbles_! _Buttercup_! I need you guys...we need to form—"

"_The Utonium Cannon_!" Both Buttercup and Bubbles cheered in the same seconds of their excitement. The Utonium cannon had been a _signature move _of their creation, since they were young girls in elementary school, on the same cheer team together. Though it has simply been nothing more than Buttercup and Blossom launching Bubbles high into and through the air, as it'd been done in cheerleading, the three had adopted it into their own lives as a special team-move to catch and capture "_bad guys_".

Or simply as a fun trick to do at the pool for extra air and a bigger splash.

"Ready!" Buttercup and Blossom locked their hands together tightly for extra security in their grip.

"_Ready_!" Bubbles slowed her dashes, until she'd created a distance of about five feet between her sisters and herself as they ran. She flew into quick sprints, until she shortened her radius from them, and then, jumped to land both her feet in the palms of their hands.

"_**Launch**_!" Blossom and Buttercup both flung their arms and her body forward at the angle they'd perfected for maximum air and speed. Several feet from the ground, Bubbles tucked her petite figure into a small ball and whipped through the sky. She threw Blossom's sword into the air before her, and exploded back into her whole form— her arms and legs spread out, with legs high in the air as she came down atop the male with the backwards crimson cap and red hair.

She snatched the sword from the air, targeting her victim like a the deadly missile she became. "_Holy—_" The smallest of the boys running, with the short blonde hair and blue eyes, turned and pointed in the air, and unwittingly, his brother's turned to bare witness as well.

Witness to the pair of frilly baby blue panties coming down at one of them, at speeds unmeasurable, until she collided with the male with such force that he'd flown back into the ground and made his mark in the dirt as he slid several feet, his red cap flying off his head and landing several _safe _feet away. "_Shit!_" The dark haired brother hissed and snatched the blonde boy's wrist as he ran.

"Dammit!" He struggled beneath Bubbles' girth and threw his head up to snap at her viciously, "_Don't you** fuckin' Utonium's** have any mercy_!?" He was quick to drop his head back down into the Earth, as Bubbles brought the bamboo sword down swiftly through the air, and brought its tip to ghost directly above the male's forehead, between his deep haematic eyes.

"Mercy, is for _the weak_!" Bubbles ground out between jaws lugubriously clamped together so her teeth would grit so tightly one could hear them grinding. The man beneath her fell silent, and swallowed his words down deep into his belly so that not another one would come to life outside his lips while he was under her control.

"Buttercup! Search him!" Blossom clamored to meet Bubbles by her side as Buttercup fell to her knees to frisk his pockets, and even down to his socks—

"There's nothin' on 'im!" Buttercup announced in despair.

"_What_!?"

"He doesn't _have anything_!"

He chuckled wolfishly, and Blossom came to replace Bubbles in her position sitting atop his abdomen, "Wipe that smug grin off your face, dirt bag!"

"Pretty president came all this way just to frisk little ol' me?" His menacing smile stretched far across his face, "Y'know, your sister there didn't really check _everywhere_. If ya really wanna take a thorough search, I wouldn't mind you putting your hand down my—"

Blossom smacked her hand down atop his mouth, clamping her fingers tightly into his cheeks to keep another slimy word from slipping out. "Damn," Buttercup swore between cracked breaths, "the other two...are gone...we lost them! I can't believe..." She fell to cup her hands to her knees, too out of breath to throw a tantrum now. While Bubbles stood up on wobbly legs to catch her own breath, she supported her body on the sword sticking out the ground.

He took his hand and viciously tore Blossom's from his mouth, unveiling his wicked smile once more, "You know, having you on top of me is fun and all, but you've got nothing to hold me on. So really..."

"_Shut up_," Blossom snarled. She smacked his hand away from hers and pushed up to her feet, joining her sisters in their stance only about a foot away from their only culprit. He brought himself to a stance and off the ground, patting his uniform clean of loose debris and brushing past the girls to retrieve his baseball cap from the ground.

"But hey! _If ya ever wanna straddle me again..._"

Blossom clenched her fists tightly to her side, gripping the bottom of her skirt to keep her hands from flying upward. As she watched this snake of a man slip further and further from their grasp, until he disappeared from campus, and off elsewhere into the city of Townsville.

"Are you okay, Blossom?" Bubbles came to her sister's side and placed a delicate hand on her shoulder. She flinched lightly, and turned to avert her stare from where he once stood, and sighed, "Yeah." She said.

"I just..._really _hate that guy."

XXX

**After school.**

**Moral Committee meeting**

"Time to call role—!"

Over enthusiastic, Blossom took her trusty clipboard tight in hand and brought it to her face to read out the names of those who were on it. "Committee president— Blossom Utonium! _Present_!" She scratched a quick check beside her own name and continued, "Committee vice president— _Bubbles _Utonium!"

Silence.

"_Bubbles_!"

"Oh c'mon—" Bubbles whined in dole, "you _know _I'm here! We come to school together every morning!"

"Protocol is protocol, Bubbles!" Blossom exclaimed, slamming her clipboard down to the table, "What would a committee be without order!? Role call is a very important step to ensure that all committee members are present—!"

"They _are _all present," Buttercup said flatly. She leaned with her elbow on the table, her legs crossed and her cheek against her palm, "You. Me. And Bubbles." She emphasized on the emptiness of the room furthermore by waving her hand around to bring Blossom's attention to the empty chairs surrounding the table, "The _only _committee members."

Blossom crumbled, her enthusiasm— foiled, "Why don't we have...more...members...?"

"Because," Bubbles perked to the opportunity to answer, "you scared and drove them all away with your '_leadership_'."

"You mean her _bitchiness_," Buttercup mumbled. Blossom flung herself over the table in an enraged roar, "I beg your _pardon_!?"

Buttercup, unmoved by her sister's threatening gesture, only scraped the corner of her nose with the black painted pinky fingernail of her free hand, "I _said_, nobody wanted to stick around because her highness _tight-ass _only wanted to boss people around and unleash her wrath of having her panties in a bunch."

Blossom trembled in anger, her hands shaking and gripping the edges of the table, "It's because of _me _that we drove out that terrible _Gangreen Gang_! It was our committee that brought them to justice! Doesn't anybody realize that!? Ungrateful_ swine_!" She dropped herself down to the table, burying her head in her folded arms and groaning in melancholy. Bubbles giggled and smiled softly, turning her head so that Blossom wouldn't catch her teasing.

"Aside from that! We have _three _glaring issues at hand and in our school right now!"

She rummaged through her satchel bag for a manila folder which she laid out on the table. Flipping its cover to reveal three photographs taken in black and white by the school's cameras, photographs which she took out and flung out dramatically onto the table one at a time with a name after each one:

"_Brick,_" She said as she slid a photo of the red-haired man from earlier out onto the table. He wore upon a face a mischievous grin with teeth sharp and dangerous. His hair, long and dripping down past his shoulders, is wild and the top if covered by a cap turned backwards with spikes on its bill. And his ear lobes are stretched to small holes with white spike plugs in them.

"_Butch,_" Buttercup hissed at the second picture to be lain out on the table. A picture of a man with dark black hair, spiked atop his head and untamed as his brother's was. He wore an expression of dullness, unmoved or amused by anything or anyone around him, with small silver tunnels stretching his ear lobes, silver rings piercing the cartilage of both his left and right ears, and the tragus of just his left ear.

"_Hey_!" Bubbles chirped, she leaned into the table and placed her finger upon the third and final photo to be lain out on the table, "That's Boomer!" She tapped her nail against the photo, a photo of a younger faced male— definitely the youngest looking of his brothers— smiling innocently with eyes as big as her own, and very short choppy blonde hair which spiked atop his head, and the rest around his dome had been shaved low. He had only two small silver rings in his ears.

"Of course it's Boomer," Blossom yelled to the very top of her lungs, "who else had you thought was the third brother in their band of _rebels_!?"

"Well, no! I knew they were brothers! It's just that...Boomer isn't as bad as they are! In fact, he's a cry baby! I even help him with his homework sometimes...his brothers just kinda drag him along into their really stupid charades."

"Well nonetheless, he _still _takes part in them, so _he's _just as bad as the other two! Just look at these three! Piercings, tattoos, _total _disregard to their surroundings and the people they hurt," Blossom huffed and slapped her hands down on the table, "they're even wearing their _uniform _wrong! We've got to do something to keep these guys from bringing our school to the ground! They're trying to control it! They've already got all the students— and even some of the _staff _beneath their thumbs! They're just going around making everyone their puppet!"

"They're pretty vicious," Buttercup mumbled nonchalantly, "I dunno. It's not like we can just _drive them out of the school_. We need actual reason. Conviction!"

"We _need _to catch them in the act!" Blossom screeched, "Like we did today! Only next time we _can't _let them get away! Those slippery snakes...they won't slip _me_ again..._oh no_..."

"Easy there Blossom, your crazy is showing."

Again, Bubbles giggled. And Buttercup smirked slyly at her own remark. "Whatever," Blossom scoffed, "anyway...on another note...where do you guys wanna get something to eat? I'm starving!"

"Yeah, me too," Bubbles whined, her hands placed atop her growling stomach, "we spent our whole lunch break chasing those guys..."

"Wanna grab a slice of pizza?"

Bubbles nodded wildly in response. Buttercup, shrugged her shoulders lightly. "Alright then," Blossom sighed, retrieving her phone from the pocket of her skirt and tapping the screen gently with her thumb, "I'll call The Professor..."


	4. Chapter 2 :: Home weird home

**THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: CHAPTER TWO ::: HOME, WEIRD HOME _!_**

It's late. Well—_ actually_, it's only six o'clock pm, but that alone is far too late for the three sisters to be out and about on a school night. At least, in his mind it was. Perhaps he'd been too overprotective, they _are _teen girls, and they've got cellphones. And besides, Blossom has already called to inform him on their whereabouts once.

_Three hours_ ago.

He's sitting on the living room sofa, chewing anxiously at the nubs of his nails and tapping his feet on the ground. Never in his days had he felt this in distress— not since the time Buttercup had broken her arm in the third grade one day, while they were all at the park and under _his _supervision.

Oh God.

What if something bad has happened to them? The thought of something terrible occurring and involving his little girls both terrified and paralyzed him. What if they wandered off with a group of boys?

_I have to trust them_, says the lonely professor, in his mind. He drops his hands to his knees, gripping them firmly while he tries to collectively organize the rampaging thoughts in his mind. His girls are _way _too good for just _any _boys. Blossom is far too smart to fall under the spell of any delinquent, Bubbles is entirely too kind and overall intelligent to succumb to just _any _teenage boy's charm. Buttercup is also very smart. Struggling a bit in a class or two, due to her just sheer uninterest in the lessons, but she's by far the strongest physically, and _least _likely to have _anyone_— boy, man, girl, woman, or _beast_— talk to her any kind of way. Nope, not Buttercup.

But _teenage girls_!

The professor tore at his short locks of thick salt and pepper mixed hair in inner agony.

Hormones, and peer pressure! What if...what if one of them isn't still _untouched_— but which _one_!?

Of course, he would never judge his girls in such a way that would mean demeaning them in any way, shape, or form. But still, the question remained, with only more following suit—

_If one of the girls are sexually active...wouldn't that mean...I would have to put them on birth control!? Oh my God— what if they're **all **sexually active!? Oh God— how would I get them to tell me if they were? They're like a pact, any secrets they have or know about each other...they would never tell me! Would they!? Oh my God, I haven't even had "the talk" with them yet! They're full grown teenagers! Do they know what contraceptives are!?_

_Of course they know what contraceptives are! Leave it to the school system to teach them about safe sex...better them than they're father...right?_

He released a low, grim groan, and buried his head between his knees to mutter softly, "_I'm a failure as a father...I'm sorry honey..._"

In the midst of his sorrow, the professor failed to catch the sound of the lock being activated, and the giddy laughter of his daughters as they entered their home. Blossom, who lead the trio inside, stood frozen behind the couch. Inquisitive on their father's state of emotional state, and perhaps, even the entirety of his mental being at this point. "_Professor_?" She finally announced her the girls' presence, and it became apparent that he was no longer alone in his wallowing.

He snapped his back erect, straight so that he'd sit high with his chest puffed out— a cover up for his inner grim, "Girls! You're back! I was starting to worry a bit!"

A bit meaning, more than the _necessary_ amount.

"What's wrong? I called you and told you where we were, where we were headed," Blossom blinked curiously, "Bubbles even called you to tell you we were on our way home."

But alas, the man in all of his distraught had left his cellular device unnoticed on the pillow of his king size bed in the master bedroom several feet away. Had he heard it's vibration, he would've surely gone to see who it was trying to reach him. But...

"Jeez, Professor," Buttercup huffed in irritation. She entered further, dropping her black leather book bag covered in decorative pins of all sorts to the ground, and replacing her hand on her hip. "You gotta quit worryin' so much. You're gonna lose all your hair before it all gets the chance to turn gray."

"Yeah," Bubbles protested, "we're old enough now! We can take care of ourselves! _Plus_, there's three of us, and we all look out for each other, so..."_  
_

_We all look out for each other_. He remained frozen where he stood, staring lifelessly at the forms of his daughters before him. Standing together in order, from Blossom, to Bubbles, to Buttercup— he can imagine them when they were younger. And he remembers, they've _always _been this way. _Nothing_ has changed. Not even to this day have they grown apart, or shifted even a tad, a bond that can never be broken— as precious as theirs, is one that he's never seen before.

Together they were unstoppable, unbeatable. Together, they were the _Powerpuff girls_.

Powerpuff girls. A smile would stretch upon his weary face whenever he'd think back to the days they'd called themselves that, as children. Perhaps they still do, but not in his presence? This thought too, made him smile. The hopeless and dreading man livened up, in realizing that he, singlehandedly, raised a set of perfect little girls into teenagers, perfect in his eyes.

_What a damn good job_.

Perhaps, he'd been staring. Perhaps the look on his face was baffling if not, humorous, for the reactions of his girls from looking straight back at him had varied from expressions of giddiness, to that of intrigue. "O—_kay_," Blossom hummed softly, she tightened her grip on the strap of her satchel and slowly, made a footing towards the stairs, "_I'm_...gonna go take a bath..."

"Oh, you little _sneak_—" Buttercup hissed. And suddenly, Blossom made a mad dash towards and up the stair case, with Buttercup chasing behind her and shouting, "You did that on _purpose_! C'mon Blossom, you always take _forever_ in the bathroom—!"

"I'm tense from our little _run _today," Blossom blurted back in "cryptic code" to keep their father's curiosity at a low, "—and I've got _tennis _tomorrow! I need a relaxing bath!"

"Well— you're not the only one that ran today _sister_— and I've got cross country practice tomorrow! What makes you so special!?"

"_I was born first_," Blossom cried from around the corner, barely audible due to the distance she'd made between her and everyone else— except Buttercup who remained hot on her trail, in the pursuit of a relaxing bath. Bubbles remained on the bottom floor, a smile wrapped around her face, "_Okay_." She yawned softly, molding her palm to her mouth as she did, to hide her stretching face and distorted look.

"I'm going to my room," she said, "can I take a shower in your bathroom, Professor?"

"Don't you _everyday_?" He replied, and they both rippled in small laughter. Bubbles, removing her shoes on the first floor and taking them in her hand, finally followed suit behind her sisters up the stairs— slowly. She tucked inside the sanctuary of her bedroom, pushing the door halfway closed with her foot as she continued in a straight path for her bed—

"_The bathroom is mine_!" She heard Blossom scream, and the rampaging stampeding of two pairs of feet racing down the hall shortly afterwards. Exhausted, she flopped down to the plushness of her mattress and sank in it's comfort, releasing a long, heavy sigh. And she closed her eyes for a short time only, recollecting on today's events in slow motion, before she stood and collected her bath items— to sneak downstairs _undetected_.

XXX

_Dear Diary_—

Bubbles yawned, she breathed through her nostrils, lying flat on her abdomen in her bed and beneath her covers. Another night in a row, using her cellphone as her source of light to fill in, today's entry:

_I feel so tired. Today was just awful! Buttercup, Blossom, and I all chased down those stupid boys today for smoking in the school. I mean, who does that!? _

_Anyway, we didn't catch them in the end, and I can't help but feel like it was all my fault for getting caught off guard like that...on another note, smoke really burns. My eyes were stinging like crazy after one of those idiots blew smoke in my face! And it even made my throat really scratchy and it was hard to breathe...it was just awful._

_How do people even do that? I could never get into that._

_Blossom is going crazy trying to figure out a way to get Boomer and his brothers expelled. Buttercup and I just really see no point to it, yeah they're jerks, and complete control freaks— and inconsiderate morons, but expulsion could really mess up a person's life. I don't like them, but I don't dislike them so much that I'd actually work to destroy their futures._

_I just think they need a little bit of an attitude readjustment. Boomer is the only one that I can really see is actually trying to make good grades and come to class. To be honest, I really don't mind helping him with his homework! He's so quiet and shy when he's not around his brothers, I wonder if they're all like that when you get them alone._

_Maybe I'll find out someday._

_I think there's some good in those boys. Somewhere._

_I don't trust Brick though. I might have to break his arms and legs if there was ever a time we'd be alone together. But you wanna know something?_

_I think Blossom totally has a crush on him._


	5. Chapter 3 :: Homework

**THE MORAL COMMITTEE ::: CHAPTER THREE ::: HOMEWORK**

Today felt like a truly, insurmountable challenge for each of the Utonium girls. After yesterday's brawl and pursuit, they're just now feeling the after effects of exerting one's body to nearly its limit. The pain in their joints and the numbness of their muscles wreaked havoc on their school performance- and to make matters worse...

Each one of them had some kind of practice today.  
Wavering, yet melodic, a tone sang behind Bubbles' lips as she hummed softly to herself to escape the pain wrapping her body in its grasp. Today's practice meant conditioning for volleyball, and that meant four laps around the school's half a mile long track that wrapped around the football field. Such a task would usually pose no problem for a well rested, well adjusted woman like herself, but being that today she is neither one of these things, she requires all the preparation she can get.

Being as it is so hot outside, today's conditioning gear consisted of a simple white t-shirt and dark blue compression shorts. She knelt down on the hot black track to secure the white laces on her light blue sneakers, and extended her leg further out to stretch the tight muscles in her thighs. Afterwards, she stood straight, her back fully erect and her arms stretching high above her head to crack her creaky vertebrae. Then, she bent over to place her palms on the ground and stretch her hips.

Ready.

She would begin slowly, jogging her way into a steady quicker paced run. Running the straight a ways, and jogging the curves of the track, was her strategy to keep from tiring out too quickly during conditioning. One lap down, two laps down...

"Hey! Bubbles!"

She could hear the call of her name from a distance, on the opposite side of the track is where she zeroed in on its origins. Around the track and behind the gate, a petite young man with spikes of blonde raised atop his head cried, and waved to her in an attempt to reel her attention. This time, she ran all the way through, both the straights and the curves, to get to the other side of the field and meet him at the steel barred gate that he eagerly wrapped his hands around. "Boomer..." Bubbles said, out of breath, "what's...what's up?"

"You look tired!" He teased, his smile radiant, but mocking. Bubbles pouted, though her brows furrowed aggressively, and immediately, Boomer shrunk away from the fence waving his hands, "Hah! Sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it like—"

"What do you want?" She questioned him, more assertively this time as she leaned forward to catch her breath with her hands on her knees. Boomer flung his arm back and his hand behind his head, nervously scratching the shaved portion of his hair thoughtfully.

"Sorry. For yesterday," He began meekly, "I— I didn't mean to blow smoke in your face! I didn't know you were allergic!"

"That was you!?"

"Y—yeah! But I didn't mean to- honest! I just looked over and, I- you were standing there when I exhaled. Please!" Boomer bowed his head, clapping his hands together whilst pleading for forgiveness, "I really need your help! Tomorrow, my anatomy teacher is giving this huge test, and I've been too busy to study! I don't know any of the materials...!"

"Busy, huh?" Bubbles huffed, her cheek, puffed out as she thought. She closed her eyes and leaned backwards, her hands clamped to her hips, "I have two laps left. After I finish, I'll come back to you with my answer."

Boomer's eyes lit up, back to their lustrous shine of hope and giddy, "I'll run them! I'll run them with you!" He exclaimed. Bubbles drew back in appall, racking her mind for a response that would keep him from fulfilling his statement, "Well, you can't! The gate is locked for conditioning, and you can't get insi—"

She opened her eyes to find only his scuffed white sneakers before them, squeaking against the bars of the gate as he climbed it. His left leg thrown over the top, and then his right, and leaped down to touch down safely beside her. Usually, she would protest to his action, but finding that he'd already made it inside the gates, it had made any further protest obsolete at this point. So, she'd simply go along with it. "Just— keep up! Okay?" She remarked smugly. Boomer nodded his head in response, and took off on steady foot behind her as she began her run around the track.

An easy run with Boomer keeping up with her pace, the two of them running side by side. It was brisk, the cool air hitting their warm bodies as they rushed through it. Boomer panting softly as he began to talk, "So, this...this is...conditioning? For what!?"

"Volleyball try-outs," Bubbles' response remained short and brief, as she retained most of her breath for the sake of running and only that. They made the straight, and now, slowly jogged the short curve of the track, Boomer's stride now wavering.

"So, about this test—"

"_Yeah_?"

"From what she told me it's...pretty long and it's...really in depth about...blood and...and _blood_..." He wheezed violently, coming to a halt in his run behind Bubbles and bending over to grasp his knees. She hadn't yet realized his absence until coming to the conclusion that it had been too quiet to her left side, and turned her head to find him astray. Several feet behind her, out of breath on the track. "I'll..." Boomer waved his arm high in the air and shouted with all the breath he had, "I'll catch back up with you! I mean...I'll wait...for you too..._sheesh_!"

Bubbles giggled, returning to her own run, tranquil and silent. Completing her final two laps, both times passing Boomer in his stationary position in the middle of the track at its halfway point, only the second time, did she stop, and take to his side...

"Okay," she said suddenly. Boomer looked up from the tar black ground and into her eyes, for they stood at about the same height, him only outgrowing her by an inch or maybe two. "O...okay?"

"I've decided," Bubbles sighed softly, dragging out her response to increase suspense, and watching the young man's face contort in nervousness was all too entertaining, "I'll help you."

"Ah!" Boomer collapsed, his welling emotions proved to be overwhelming to his fatigue. He knelt beside her and took to wrapping his long arms around her legs, pulling her into his head as he pressed his cheek into her thigh. "Thank you! Thank you! Wow, you're so much nicer than your sisters- I thought for sure you'd turn me down! I would fail this thing for sure without your help! Oh, thank you-!"

"G..." Bubbles stuttered, her speech scattered and raised in embarrassment, "get off, let me go before I change my mind...!"

At least he isn't as much of a lecher as his brother...

The whistle blew its sharp siren as cue for the girls participating in conditioning to gather up and exit the track, as it was time to leave and enter the actual gym. "Alright! All o' ya, clear the track! The cross country team is comin' in for their practice..." Their coach, a pudgy short old man probably in his early fifties, called out to all the woman on the field. His white varsity school issued t-shirt drenched in his own, dark sweat, as well as his glistening forehead. He raked his fingers through his graying locks of brunette hair, and grumbled to himself lowly about the heat, as far as anyone could hear...

"Jeez," Boomer griped as he stood to his feet and brushed the dirt from his trousers, "Who is that?"

"That's our coach," Bubbles replied flatly, "he's a total _grease ball_! And, sometimes we even catch him looking at some of the girl's butts. We call him the _Roach Coach_ in the locker room and around the school."

"Locker room, huh?" He closed his eyes, cooing softly to himself as his mind brought to life the imagery of what he'd thought it'd be like to be in the girl's locker room, "I wonder what that's like..."

Breasts. Butts. Panties. Bras. Naked teenage girls showering, lathering their hands in foamy soap and caressing each other's skin with gentle touches-

Bubbles only stared silently in resent.

Maybe he is a lecher like his brother.

"Oi! Bubbles!" Buttercup called out to her sister from beyond the field, "Get yer ass outta here...hey, and take your boyfriend with ya. Cross country team's here, ya heard 'im!?" She teased. Bubbles face tore into a bright pink, hot from frustration, and Boomer's, hot pink from embarrassment, "B-boyfriend?"

"Buttercup!" Bubbles cried, "That's not funny! I..._ngh_! C'mon, Boomer!"

She snatched Boomer by the arm of his cobalt blue cardigan which he wore over his initial white school-issued uniform button up shirt, and escorted him and herself off the track in anger.

XXX

"Forty— _forty_!" The score taker resided safely on the outside of the court, where he continued to call out the progress of their practice tennis match.

"C'mon Blossom!" Her adoring tennis companions cried from the sidelines, aiding her with motivational mantras, "You can do it! You're both tied up! Stay sharp! You can win this thing!"

_Focus_. Ardent eyes stared down the stature of her opponent, the position in her serve— and in her mind she'd concocted a prediction of where the ball would end up. So she'd _pounce _for it when it did. The world moves in slow motion, reality stops and runs thick and gradually so her mind misses not a single meticulous detail. Not _one_.

Though as exhausted as she was, she wouldn't let a meager thing like tiredness get in the way of her _crushing _her competitor, even if this _was _only a friendly scrimmage. She would prevail, victorious over all—!

That is, she thought she would, until her eyes flicker and she misses a move in her foe's serve that may just end the game for her. She pushed off the ground on the ball of her pink tennis shoes, ripping across the court to strike her move. A split second before the ball would hit the ground a second time, and miss the palm of her racquet. With a last minute swing of her arm, she thrusted her racquet upward and caught the ball in its links, sending it just _barely_, over the net and onto the opponent's side of the court. A second too late, and she would've surely lost the game.

Her competitor dashed to the net further down the court from where she stood at the end. She lunged and slid to hit the ball, swinging beneath it rather than upon it, and missing her chance to retaliate before she struck the ground with her anterior body.

Blossom won, and by a single thread of hair. She crumbled to the ground in relief and sighed, as the final words of the score keeper were called out loud in announcement to the entire court— "_Game point_!"

"Yes!" Blossom cheered, she threw her arms up high in air and toppled backwards onto the court's hard ground. _I almost thought I wouldn't make it...I felt like I was gonna die— _

"Nice scrimmage!" One of Blossoms cheerful companions ran onto the court to assist her in standing back up to her gelatin consistency legs. They shared a laugh before their departure, where Blossom made her way to the net, to shake the hand of her opponent as any good gamesman would do. She glanced over her shoulder before turning, catching in her peripheral, the sight of Bubbles, at a distance, with another familiar blonde headed young man. A familiar blonde headed man who _may _or _may not have _had a hand in almost costing her her scrimmage. Blossom grit her teeth in aggravation and murmured under her breath, her sister's name in vein, "_Bubbles..._"

XXX

"Can you wait out here?" Bubbles turned away from Boomer and stretched her arms high, "I'm going to take a quick shower, and change. It won't take long!"

"Sure," Boomer waved for their short farewell, "I'll be waiting! I'll be _right here_!"

She nodded understandingly, and disappeared inside of the locker room, leaving Boomer out in the open, empty gymnasium. He tucked his hands into his deep baggy pockets, twisting and turning around on the shiny, freshly waxed gym floor. "Sports, eh?" He muttered softly, looking high up in the air at the glass backboard of a basketball hoop.

He corrected his stance, forming the perfect stature for shooting a basketball at his distance from the hoop— and leaped gently off the ground, flicking his wrist to shoot his imaginary ball into the net. _Swoosh_! And the crowd goes wild—!

Silent, but unmistakably, wild. Maybe, because there _is no _crowd. He folds his hands back into his pockets, and drags his feet along the squeaky floor, to the folded-in bleachers where he leans patiently in wait of Bubbles' return. Several minutes would pass, before a single sign of life would appear in the silent gym— two signs of life, in fact.

"Hey Boom," it was his brother, Brick, who called out to him in such a manner, that it shook the entire tranquility of the gym to its very core, causing it to shatter into millions of shards. Followed by him was his second brother, Butch, trailing silently in Brick's path, "Whatcha' doin' in here, all by yourself?"

"N—nothing!" Boomer hesitated, his hands flying out of his pockets, and his cream face gone red, "W—what are _you guys _doing in here!?"

"Just lookin' for our _favorite _brother—" Brick came to his quivering brother's side, and leaned against the exterior of the bleachers. He bowed forward, lower and lower until he'd reached the level to speak directly into Boomer's ear, and said wolfishly, "_Where is she_?"

_Huh_? Boomer exchanged with his brother, a look of bewilderment, a gesture for Brick to elaborate further on his interrogative, "Aw, c'mon Boom! We saw ya come in here with a blonde chick— who is she? She looked good from behind—"

"Wha...what do you mean?" Boomer retorted.

Brick narrowed his eyes thinly, and smirked, "You knew the gym's empty. So ya brought her in here ta...eh? Have a little, _fun_?"

"_No_!" Boomer ripped from his body, an exclamation of protest, "Wait— you watched me come in here with a girl, so you two just_ follow me_!?"

"We're lookin' out for ya, isn't that right Butch?" Brick elbowed Butch playfully in his ribcage. The man kept still, his arms folded into one another over the bust of his carelessly thrown on school cardigan, draped over a dark green collared shirt, and unironed with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the collar crooked. Brick neglected to show any signs of the uniform at all whatsoever, wearing everything, the cardigan, the collared shirt, everything beneath a baggy crimson red jacket which he kept zipped up only a little bit over the middle of his core. And still, although against school policy, he wore that signature red cap, only different from yesterday's. With the word "BOY" jutting out the front, which had been turned to the back, in bold white three dimensional font.

"_Whew_!" Bubbles exclaimed, as she departed from the locker room door, she swung her book bag's strap over her shoulder— "Oh."

Ah, her favorite brothers. All in the same place, Brick and Butch at Boomer's side, and Boomer's face beaming a bright red. She pinched her hands to her hips and sighed, puffing out her cheek, before speaking flatly, "It's _you guys_. Hello, Brick. Hello, Butch."

"_Tch_," Brick shot his glare back down at his flustered brother, "_her_? Aw, Boomer—"

"Hm? What about me—?"

"N—nothing!" Boomer blustered, "Come on Bubbles, we'd better go to the library now! Y'know, where it's nice, and quiet—"

"I've had it about _up to here_ with your attitude mister!" Bubbles directed to Brick, nearing him more and more until she practically stood on the toes of his sneakers. "And _you_! Actually— the _both _of you," she pointed a stern blue-painted fingernail at both him and Butch, "you two had better start going to class, or else you'll really hurt yourselves later on..."

"_Fuck _no," Brick scoffed, "fuck that! I've got better things to do than sit my ass down in some boring ass classroom..."

"Yeah, and since when do _you _care about us going to class?" Butch finally spoke out. Bubbles leaned, drawn aback by the tone in his voice, having not heard him speak often had left her in an enigmatic haze about how he'd sounded...until today. And she had to admit, although it may not look as he appears, it had an a lot more soothing tone than his brother's, _Brick's_.

"Yeah!" Brick blared in agreement, "Hell yeah! I thought you and your '_committee's_' goal was to knock us out of school anyway."

"It isn't _my _committee—" In fact, the entire committee idea was Blossom's creation alone, "—and I'm _not _trying to get rid of you guys!"

"Well, the crazy one sure is," Brick snorted, "she's been at our throats for the longest! About every little damn thing..._say_..." He leaned into her, invading Bubbles' personal space unapologetically and without hesitation, or caution, "You say you're not tryna get rid of us? Not even after what we did yesterday? Why's that, _huh_?"

Bubbles shrank back from Brick's body and held her ground several inches away from where she'd first positioned herself, "Because! Believe it or not..."

She inhaled hard, and exhaled softly. Dropping her head and pressing the pads of her fingers to her forehead as she shook it, her blonde twintails swaying gently in her motion, "_I can't believe I'm about to actually say this..._"

"_Bubbles_," Boomer shook his head rapidly, crossing his arms over each other in the shape of an X, a more than obvious gesture for her to cease speaking to his brothers.

"_I _think," She began, in spite of his heeding, "that...there's actually a chance for you guys...to change. And, well. I think that, with a _little _push—" and by a little, she meant a _huge push_, "—you guys could, actually make it through our senior year, _without _anymore mayhem, and you could actually come out with a diploma! Believe it or not, a diploma opens up more opportunities for things in the real world than you think—"

Brick squinted his eyes thinly, he glanced at his brothers, Butch still in his standing silence. And Boomer, with his face buried in his palms, shaking his head. Then, back to Bubbles, who stared with an expression that read, hopeful for a response from the three of them.

"_This_ one," Brick laughed. He flicked his tongue out from its cavern in his mouth, and bit it hard between his teeth, before reeling it back in, "I thought the redhead was pretty hot— _this one _is cute."

She dropped the lids of her eyes, heavy with disappointment, and rolled her orbs around in their sockets before she took Boomer's hand aggressively into her own, "Let's go, Boomer. To the library!"

Boomer followed, so quickly and so ready to escape his brothers in fact, that he practically _led _Bubbles out the gym, until they reached the safety of the hallway, and he could breathe easy...

XXX

**In the library**

Where the pair sat, far in the back of the large room at a table empty except for the both of them, had been the perfect environment for Bubbles to continue her teachings.

If Boomer had been _listening_.

He was only watching, silently, with his cheek resting in his palm, he could see her mouth moving, and yet it was completely silent. His mind received no sound other than his own inner conscious, screaming at him and tearing at his ears from the inside. It became excruciating, _unbearable—_

"Y'know," Bubbles said, "this would probably stick better if you took some notes—"

"Bubbles?" Boomer spoke quietly, his hands cupped over his ears and flattened to rub them gently before releasing them again. Bubbles brought her eyes up from one of the several open textbooks on the table, and looked to Boomer, "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" Bubbles asked. He sat silently, his back against the back of his chair and his hands tight between his knees.

"Are we...I mean. To you," he hesitated, and then, he breathed lightly, "are we _friends_?"

She blinked, silent and intrigued, only staring and bewilded by the very question. To _her_? _Are _they friends? Although the idea's never crossed her mind that he was no more to her than a classmate in need of tutoring and assistance...now the question lurked her mind to it's very center. It ran through every nook and open crevice in search of an answer, an answer in which, regrettably, she may not even have. Taking her eyes off of Boomer, she looked back down to the textbook in front of her, all of it's small font became, simple splotches on paper.

Friends.

_Could _they be friends? With the posing threat of her sisters? And let alone, his brothers. Or at least _Brick_.

"Nevermind," Boomer shook his head, locks of blonde flopping wildly atop it, "it was a dumb question. Sorry. I won't ask anymore—"

"Of course," Bubbles peeped. She looked to him and smiled, closing her eyes and cocking her head slightly. Without a response, she grew curious and opened her eyes once more, to find Boomer, again, in a stage of scarlet red. He blurted out in nervous laughter, quickly shielding his mouth with his hands and bringing his volume down to an acceptable minimum for their environment, "Aha...sorry..."

"What's wrong?" She questioned, "Why'd you ask me that?"

"Well, it's just that...I've never had...a friend that's a girl before," he said. Boomer stared down at the table, not a single book, nor sheet of paper lied before him, but he looked down as if to read endlessly on a script or sheet of paper, "Or you see. _Any _friend really. It's always been me and those two, for as long as I can remember. Other people just kinda shut us out...and because I fall in their shadow...sometimes, people will look at _me _like _I'm _a monster. But you know! Those two aren't really as bad as people think!"

He nervously gripped the edge of his seat, his shoulders raising to cover his face, "I never had anyone to talk to about it because my brothers drove almost everyone away, except you and your sisters. Your sisters hate me, but you...I was scared to keep you around them because, you, you're really nice to me. I didn't want you to wind up hating me either, or get driven away by what they do, and how they drag me into it. Like yesterday...I'm really sorry...for blowing smoke in your face—"

"That was _you_!?" Bubbles shrieked. She'd nearly lunged up from her seat in her chair, but fell back down and pierced his being with her intense glare.

"Y—yes! I—I—I'm _sorry_! I didn't mean to," Boomer ducked into his shoulders for safety and leaned sideways, away from Bubbles, "I was just nervous, and I'd held my breath and— when I went to jump out the window, I turned my head and— you were just _standing _there! I got scared and I wound up, exhaling really hard...I didn't know you were asthmatic..."

"I'm not asthmatic," Bubbles ground out bitterly. Boomer perked up immediately to her response, looking over to her, and then back to the table with a soft sigh, "_Oh_. _Thank goodness_..."

"But it _still_ hurt!" Bubbles yapped, "You nearly _blinded_ me!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Ugh," she groaned, tapping her fingernails on the table top, "fine. Apology accepted. _Whatever_..."

"Hey...but...since we're...y'know," Boomer began, scattered and nervous, "since we're friends and all. Does that mean I can like, tell you stuff? Y'know, and you'd listen to me? And not just tell me to shut up, or call me annoying, or tell me that I complain or I talk too much?"

"That's what friends are for," Bubbles retorted curiously, "why? Is there something you wanna tell me? I'm here. I'm listening."

Drawn to nothing but silence, Boomer only stared at the table top in complete stiffness, motionless and wordless. He whipped his head back up and smiled, waving his hands wildly before Bubbles' face to avert her curious stare and her question elsewhere, "L—let's just study for now! Okay!?"

Bubbles blinked, she watched him with an observant eye that caught every detail of his expression and body language— a skill Blossom had helped her work on personally. How he diverted her interrogative, his silence and his gloomy face. His darkened eyes brought to nothing but hollow pots where his glistening blues once shined lustrous with life and joy.

But she wouldn't go there. That was a line for him to cross, when _he _was ready, and comfortable. To open up to someone who has only just announced them self as a companion to you is a task she would expect no one to fulfill, especially if the subject of what the other person is inquiring upon is _sensitive_. She only smiled, the warmest way she could, and slid her textbook to the center of the both of them, nodding her head in silence. But understanding.

"Sure," Bubbles laughed, and she traced the lines of the book gradually with the tip of her finger for Boomer's eyes to follow along, and his writing hand to carry his pencil carefully along the lines of college ruled binder paper that was just given to him, by a friend.


End file.
